Love Street by Leah Rachel

Author:Leah Rachel
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2019-03-26T16:00:00+00:00

Ally and I rode the bus down to the stadium and used our season tickets every home game we could. We wore less and less as the summer got hotter, and we started collecting broken bats from our future husbands by hanging out at the dugout after the games. By August the lava lamps and Polly Pockets on my bedroom shelves were completely replaced by broken bats. A few of them were Mendoza’s, but those slept next to me, underneath my bedside table. He started to pick up on my crush about midway through the season and began saving dirty balls for me. It would take me 20 more years to realize that shoving your dirty balls into my face doesn’t mean you love me. Either way, Benny Mendoza was 26 years old and CLEARLY in love with me. Ally got bored with my bat-and-ball gathering and started leaving at the seventh-inning stretch. But I stayed the whole damn time. I was a REAL FAN. Benny was sweet and cool and tan and famous! Every day while hanging out by the dugout, I watched him sign at least ten autographs before I waved my wet n wild–painted hand at him. “Wassup you?” he’d always say. My heart melted into mush as I reached across the cage for whatever “collector’s” item Mendoza could scrape up for me. One day late in the season, everything had been cleaned up and all Mendoza could find for me was a red Solo cup encrusted with chew. “I love it!” I said, as I threw it into my mini backpack and blew him a kiss goodbye.

When the season ended, I was devastated. Especially since Benny Mendoza left without saying goodbye after the last home game. I thought I’d never see him again (at least not until next year), so you can imagine my surprise when I saw him standing at the front of my third-period history class. “Hi, guys. I’m Mr. Mendoza. Mr. Saal’s out with the flu today, so I’m your sub. He left this movie about the battle of—”

BENNY MENDOZA IS A SUB?! No, no! This is all wrong. I mean, I was happy to see him and all, but Benny Mendoza wasn’t a lame middle school teacher, Benny Mendoza was THE CRUSHER! Benny Mendoza was an athlete. Benny Mendoza was a star!

“Hey. It’s me,” I said as I approached him after class let out. “Who?” He smiled. “Me. Broken-bat girl!” I’ll never forget the blank look on his face as he tried to place me. “Oh, yeah. Wassup?” I forced a smile and shot the middle school shit with him for a minute or two and then decked it to the girls’ room and locked the door and cried. I cried because I didn’t realize Minor League Baseball players had to have real jobs, too. I cried because Benny Mendoza didn’t remember who I was. I cried because Benny Mendoza didn’t give me a broken bat this time, Benny Mendoza gave me a broken heart.

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